ings be described as essentially purposeless and self-sufficing? Does sacred art aim only at producing emotion divorced from action? Has architecture nothing to do with the adaptation of means to ends? Are military marches primarily composed for those who listen to them in tea-gardens?
But this is to confuse the object of the artist with the feelings of those who enjoy his art. Now undoubtedly the objects of the artist may be manifold. Milton, as we know, wrote Paradise Lost in order (among other things) to 'justify the ways of God to man'. We read him, however, for his poetry, not for his theology; and it is only with the aesthetic side of his, or any other artist's, work that we are here concerned.
But again, it may be said that, quite irrespective of the deliberate intention of the artist, the emotions he suggests may tend to foster dispositions which, for good or ill, have far-reaching effects on practice. This again is true. Most persons admit that Art may 'elevate'. It is scarcely to be denied that it may also demoralize. But this does not touch the point. We may surely hold that the use or abuse of contemplative pleasures affects character, and yet deny that these pleasures are immediately related to action.
But one further observation seems to be required
